Francis' Moving Castle
by crinoids
Summary: Arthur's life is thrown into turmoil when he is literally swept off his feet by a handsome-yet-mysterious wizard named Francis. Howl's Moving Castle APH-style ;D
1. Chapter 1

Just a quick foreword – I'll try and keep it brief ^^

So this is Howl's Moving Castle, Hetalia style. I've only ever seen the Studio Ghibli film and haven't read the book so it won't be entirely the correct plot. I want to keep this accurate, without it being a direct copy and so have hopefully come to a good enough compromise.

Yes, it is FrUK – if you don't like, don't read. I'm not on either side of the apparent USUK/FrUK war so no flames please.

Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

Howl's Moving Castle (c) Dianna Wynne Jones for the original story and Studio Ghibli

If I did indeed own either of them, my favourite pairings would be totally canon, and this would not be fanfiction – it would just be fiction and I would be earning vast amounts of money (hopefully) from it.

This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction – English has never been my forte and so reviews would be greatly appreciated. It would also be brilliant to know if you want me to carry on with this. Rating may go up at some point ;D

*salutes* Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Arthur sighed as he noticed everyone beginning to pack up their things. Green eyes glancing at the clock and back down to the embroidery he was working on, he came to the conclusion that once again he would be the last one to leave the shop. Whereas the majority of his colleagues left the small shop in which they worked as soon as possible at the end of the day, there was just something he hated about leaving in the middle of a piece.<p>

"Come on Arthur," A voice from the door called. "We're heading out now. Why don't you come and join us?" He loved his job and his colleagues were perfectly alright, but he just felt he has enough of their gossip throughout the day and would prefer to sit at home with a cup of tea than be out socialising. As another matter, he still had his embroidery to finish and he was in a dilemma of whether to stay that extra bit longer or stitch just a little bit quicker in order to get it done.

"Don't worry," he replied with a small smile. "I'll be fine finishing up here, you go on ahead"

"Only if you're sure," Arthur gave a brief nod. "Alright then, we'll see you around tomorrow." She turned to leave, just as he heard a squeal of delight from one of the other women.

"Look! It's Francis!" "Wow, Francis' castle" His colleagues ran over to the window to get a better look at the legendary man. When one of them started discussing how "dreamy" he was and the stories began to start of all the woman – and men – he had seduced (it was common knowledge that Francis had no preference between men and women when it came to his romantic endeavours), Arthur knew it was time to silently pull the door to and return to his work. He quite honestly did not care for mindless gossip about some wizard he or they had never even met.

Shortly after he had heard the shop's front door click shut and the sound of the giggling fading away, Arthur's piece of embroidery was finished and he leant back to admire his finished work. Yes, his client was going to be pleased with this. Sliding off his stool and brushing a few loose threads from his green waistcoat, he headed towards the door.

He was greeted by the sound of the planes soaring overhead, cutting through the blue sky which had just begun to cloud up. Arthur reached down to fasten the buttons of his jacket. The war was fast approaching and the constant noise was beginning to grate on him as it disrupted the tranquillity of his small-town life. Crowds were beginning to form by the roadside as a strong procession of tanks and soldiers made their way through the town centre. The hordes of people were cheering on the many soldiers that had been gathering from a number of different regions in the vain hope of protecting this land from the oncoming invasion. It would take more than a few men with their toy guns to prevent the inevitable.

A tram stopped a few metres ahead of him and he quickened his step in order to make it – he really did not want to be waiting around for the next one to arrive; they were never as reliable as they were supposed to be. He paid his fare and folded his ticket neatly into his pocket, grabbing onto a handrail, in the nick of time, as the vehicle lurched away. It was busy, as expected on a day like today, but as his destination was only a couple of stops away, he would make do.

As it pulled into his stop, he pushed through the crowded tram with a couple of mumbled "'scuse me"s and jumped down onto the pavement. Holding onto his hat, the vehicle pulled away in a flurry of dust and he pulled out his small piece of paper with the address of his brother's shop on it. He hadn't seen him in so long and it was really about time he paid him a visit. Life always seemed to run away with him, especially with long hours at the shop. Being the eldest of the two, it was his duty to keep the business running after the death of their father. It was his father's joy and he knew that he had to keep it open, in honour of him.

The main streets were too crowded for him, even in this area of town, and so he made the decision to pull into one of the backstreets. He was quite certain he would be able to find his way and probably at a much quicker rate than the slow shuffling steps he had needed to take when travelling through the busy streets.

He much preferred the quieter alleys. There was something in Arthur that revelled in the tranquillity of being alone, and these small, cobbled streets provided such solitude. The tall, red brick, buildings rose up around him acting as a shelter from the wind, and the mayhem of the surrounding streets; standing in this part, you would never believe that they were merely a couple of minutes walk away from such a hectic and crowded area. After a while of walking, he decided to re-check the instructions he had on his small piece of paper – yes, he was headed in the right direction. He straightened out the paper and placed it back into his pocket just as he walked into the man who had stopped right in the middle of Arthur's path.

"Bloody hell!" He cursed as he began to stumble. A hand grabbed onto his arm, holding him up, but it seemed too firm for a mere helpful gesture. Arthur immediately began to feel uncomfortable. "Yes, well, if you would excuse m-" he began to mumble.

"Well look what we've got here, looks like a little rabbit's lost its way." The man in a soldier's uniform in front of him sneered, tightening his grip on Arthur's arm and pulling him closer. He could distinctly detect the smell of alcohol on his breath. Something told him this was not going to end well.

Another man joined the first soldier's side. Arthur tried to pull away but the soldier had him in a death grip – he was rendered utterly incapable of even moving his arms. He was trapped and there was nothing he could do to stop the second guard running the back of a rough finger down his cheek.

"Isn't he a cutie," he leered, checking Arthur up and down. "Something tells me we're going to have fun with this one."

"Except for those eyebrows, what's going on with them?" They had really taken it too far now. He was not cute, he was not vulnerable and there was certainly nothing worth commenting on regarding his eyebrows. He really began to struggle against the soldier's grip just as the second one pushed him sharply up against the wall of the adjacent building, knocking the protest he was about to make straight from his mouth.

"Lucky he was already down these alleys, eh? A lot less work for us." His hands were roughly pulled together by the other's calloused ones, and were slammed against the wall, firmly above his head. Just as he felt a knee slip between his legs, parting them, another hand ran up the inside of his shirt which had just been untucked.

It would have been too much of a blow to Arthur's pride to begin begging these monsters for mercy; and even so, the look of the small, sandy-blonde man, pushed up against the wall, crying and begging, may have just added to the thrill these men were currently getting from having the Arthur in their vile clutches and unable to find a way to escape. He doubted very much he would be able to reach some sort of reasonable consciousness within them which could allow them to sympathise with him and let him go without harm.

The second man's hand began to move lower and started toying with the waistline of Arthur's trousers and another hand moved to cover his mouth – now he was given no choice as to whether he would protest verbally against their actions. At this point he was honestly giving up hope – he was unable to move, unable to make a sound, and there appeared to be no one in the immediate vicinity who would come to his rescue. A tear formed in his eye, which just served to annoy him even more – this just wasn't him and it was purely unacceptable to be showing such a form of weakness.

Arthur gritted his teeth and swallowed, preparing for what he knew he was unable to stop, just as the men were suddenly pulled away from him. He sunk to the ground in relief, unable to think, and not realising this would have been a great opportunity to just run, without a second glance back.

"There you are mon cher, sorry I'm late, I've been searching for you." The man apologised, his French accent showing clearly. The man held out a ringed hand to the collapsed Arthur. Blinking, he gratefully took the hand, pulling himself up to stand and brushed himself off, all the while getting a better look at his rescuer.

The man was gorgeous – there was just no other word for it. Light gold, wavy locks fell around his shoulders, glinting in the small amount of sunlight that was searching its way through the alley. Part of it was pulled back, effortlessly, into a pink bow, matching the small pink ribbons tied around his calves. He had a knee-length coat on, the colour of the sky and made of the finest silk. It was trimmed with gold and lace, and pearls hung around his neck. Jewells glinted around the darker turquoise cuffs and at his collar. More lace clung to the turquoise sash hung around his waist, contrasting with the stark white of his breeches and shirt. He had exquisite taste, bordering on flamboyant, but something about it fitted him perfectly.

The most noticeable feature about the perfect specimen of man standing in front of him was his eyes. Those eyes. Light blue gems shining with a certain mischief and yet also full of concern for the smaller man standing in front of him. They seemed genuine – there was something in them that made Arthur trust him immediately and completely. Something in them that drew Arthur towards them, not allowing him to break the gaze and look away for fear that something this beautiful would only be a dream conjured by his brain as a coping mechanism for the atrocity those men were about to perform.

His attention was brought back from the man in front of him, when he heard an angered growl from the soldier who had just been pushed out of reach of Arthur upon the arrival of the blue-eyed man.

"If you don't mind, we were kind of in the middle of something here," one of them hissed, pushing at the man, trying to start a fight. The blonde didn't even flinch. Instead raised a finger and smiled.

"Don't you two have somewhere to be?" Arthur could hear the grin in his voice. "I'm pretty sure you two were about to leave, non?" With a flick of his finger, they saluted him sharply and marched off, leaving Arthur alone with this strange man. After exhibiting powers like that, Arthur was sure this man was a wizard. There was no other explanation for the display of magic that had just been shown to him.

Not relinquishing his hold on Arthur's hand, he brought one hand up to lightly caress his face. He placed one finger underneath the Englishman's chin and gently lifted it up, bringing Arthur's face closer to his own. A light blush spread across his pale cheeks.

"Th-thank you for saving me," Arthur whispered, as the taller man brought their lips almost within an inch of touching distance. Arthur's eyes flickered shut.

"That was not a problem," he whispered back. Arthur could feel his light breath tickling his lips, "mon petit lapin."

Arthur's eyes snapped open and he pulled back and took his hand away from the Frenchman's. "What did you just call me?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing," he replied, brushing off the Englishman's words with a wave of his hand. "So, mon ami, where are we headed?"


	2. Chapter 2

A silk-clad arm was held out towards Arthur. "I'll be your escort this evening." Arthur was sure he had almost just missed the man giving a sly wink. He paused. Arthur was unsure of whether to go with this strange man he had barely spent five minutes with. He could have been anyone. But he did save Arthur's life. That must mean he is alright. Right?

Arthur warily slipped his arm through the one offered out to him and tried to avoid catching the wizard's gaze. He really did not want to get caught looking into those eyes again and he most certainly did not want to appear to him as a blushing, helpless girl. It was bad enough to Arthur that he was having to hold onto this man's arm like a lady. He most certainly did not like the protective warmth of being by this man's side and there was absolutely nothing he liked about that gorgeous French accent.

"I was just on my way to visit my brother at the bakery he works at. It's not too far from here. I really will be fine on my own." Arthur contradicted his own words by making no attempt to take his arm away from the Frenchman's.

The wizard brought his lips close to Arthur's ear, and he could feel the breath on his warm skin. "Don't be alarmed, mon petit chou, but I'm being followed. Just act natural." He said with a small smile towards Arthur. "I promise, you'll come to no harm with me."

Arthur straightened up, on guard for whomever – or whatever – might be trailing this man. If this man was a wizard there could be all sorts of creatures after him. Arthur was unique amongst humans in his ability to see a menagerie of legendary and mythical creatures. But at moments like this, he wondered whether he would in fact be better off remaining ignorant to the seemingly dangerous monsters that were on the trail of the wizard. Although there was always the factor that he would know which way to run in an emergency, rather than just stumbling blindly into the clutches of some unknown evil. He inwardly cursed himself as he realised this was exactly what he had managed to do earlier. It looked like no magic sight was going to help Arthur.

He heard a strange noise behind him, making him tighten his grip on the silken arm. No matter how much he was tempted, he refrained from looking around and just carried on walking at the smooth pace his wizard was currently taking. Brows knitting together he tried to calm himself, as he heard more noises. It was the sound of something you would expect in a swamp. Or maybe a tar pit. It was a disturbing squelching noise, the kind that made you shudder just thinking about it. Whatever was behind them, most certainly didn't sound friendly, and Arthur most certainly did not want it catching up with them.

"Sorry, looks like I've got you involved in this," the wizard apologised, just as more of the creatures sprouted out of the ground and the wall of the buildings in front of them. Arthur finally got a chance to view their pursuers and came to the conclusion he was much better off before he was aware of their appearance.

His immediate thought when he first saw them, was that they appeared to be made of a substance akin to tar. They were almost melting and their shape was constantly changing. They were a deep black, the kind that only ever seems to appear in those nightmares where you are alone in the dark, unable to call for help. Arthur had never been more glad to be holding on to someone in his life before.

"Allons-y monsieur!" The wizard exclaimed and before Arthur was able to catch his balance, he was pulled down a side alley and away from the creatures. They abruptly changed direction to follow them down this smaller street. Crashing into each other and pushing each other into the walls of the narrow street as they all tried to get enough footing to be the ones to catch up with the unlikely duo.

Seemingly out of nowhere, more of the creatures appeared in front of them. Coming out from beneath the ground, as if rising up from the depths of hell itself. Arthur was sure this was it: there was surely no way they could escape from them now. Buildings rose to the heavens on either side of the narrow street and the monsters were coming at them from both sides. They were helplessly trapped. He scrunched his eyes shut and pulled himself closer into the wizard's side.

Without even stopping running, the Frenchman slipped a hand around Arthur's waist and before he could work out what was going on, he was pulled suddenly into the air, leaving the creatures below them to falter and crash into one another.

"Now, straighten your legs, and start walking," the wizard said to Arthur with a glint in his eye. Arthur blushed furiously as he realised just how close he was to the man and that he still had a hand around Arthur's waist – not so much his waist anymore as it had began to drift a little lower.

"Unhand me, git," he muttered, swatting at the hand. The Frenchman grinned and contented himself with instead taking hold of Arthur's hands. He accepted this – purely on the basis that he needed a guide. In any other situation, he would never have let this frog lay a hand on him. Definitely not.

And then rather than ranting to himself in his head, Arthur looked around. They were in the air. Arthur was bloody well walking on thin air. His feet were touching nothing and yet he was flipping _walking_. On air. He was – they were – in. The. Sky. Floating. In th-

"See, not so hard, is it?" The wizard once again cast that grin at Arthur and carried on walking as if this was a daily occurrence. His heart gave the tiniest flutter. Arthur's steps were a bit more cautious, but he soon began to relax, feeling safe with the Frenchman's hands on his, and feeling the silken blonde wisps tickling his face in the light breeze.

He couldn't believe how beautiful everything looked from up here. What, at ground level, originally looked messy, dirty and annoyingly busy, now appeared with a brilliant display of colour. Ladies and their gentlemen danced together, delicate dresses twirling in the fading evening light. The sky was beginning to turn from a soft hue into a deeper navy with splashes of deep pink scattering out from the setting sun as it was nearly meeting the horizon.

The glided gracefully over clay-tiled rooftops, gently using a spire to raise them higher into the sky. Arthur had always lain in a field as a child, staring at the birds soaring overhead and wondering what it would be like to fly. To be that carefree. And now he was experiencing that very feeling. And it was every bit as wonderful as he had both expected, and hoped.

Softly, they landed on a balcony, stepping first onto the wooden railings of the Tudor style building. The feeling of being back on solid ground was both welcome and unwelcome. The familiar feeling indicated the far too soon end of the experience of which he was still unsure whether it could have been reality or not.

The Frenchman slowly brought Arthur round to face him, not relinquishing hold of one of his hands. He took the other hand and placed it on the side of Arthur's head, leaning down and resting his forehead upon the smaller man's.

"Wait here a while before you head out again. I don't want you coming to any more harm than you already seem to be getting yourself into." Before Arthur could make a protest regarding how the main problem with the evening's events had been purely down to him, the blue-eyed man placed a swift kiss on his forehead and jumped back onto the railing.

Their fingers lingered together, just a moment longer, neither wishing to break the contact.

"That's my boy!" The wizard said, with a wink. He thrust a hand out to the side, making his light turquoise coat fly out and catch the wind. The silk shone in the evening light, almost casting a glow around his beautiful form. And with that, he was gone. Arthur rushed to the edge of the balcony to see if he could catch one last glimpse of the mysterious man, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Resting his head on one of his hands and leaning onto the balcony, Arthur sighed deeply. His eyes flicked to half-mast as he tried to get his brain to come to a logical conclusion as to the events that had just taken place.

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><p>Morning everyone!<p>

Thank you so much to Ducere Isoru, Agerevalution and Marinoa for reviewing! I didn't think anyone was actually going to bother reading this lol

Basically this all started after I was watching HMC at a friend's house and they said that Howl with his blonde hair and blue eyes was just like France, and we ended up spending the rest of the film assigning everyone APH characters and then it kind of escalated hehe. So this is mainly dedicated to her xD

On an added note, I don't actually speak any French so most of what is written is picked up from other fanfics and doujins and the like, so if any of it is wrong, please don't hesitate in correcting me ^^ I also have a very bad headcanon of France constantly calling people "my little _" lol And sorry for the OOC-ness with England. I'll try harder next time OTL.

"Dude, dude, dude! When am I going to be in this thing?" "Look Al, you'll be in here soon, stop getting so impatient" "Ugh! But I wanna see which character I get to be" *pouts* "And pray tell me, why do I have to take the girl's role in this?" "Cos I'm the author and I want it that way Iggy" "Ah! But mon amour, you make ze most belle femme, non?" "Shut up frog!"

Thanks for reading! *salutes*


	3. Chapter 3

Leaning across the counter, the red-headed man winked. "What can I get for you, lass?" he said with a grin; green eyes flashing. The girls opposite him giggled.

The man standing across the wooden surface from them was dressed in a navy blazer with a white cross on it as a result of the straps he had pinned under his epaulettes. His chin rested on his brown gloved hand and a cigarette hung lazily from his mouth. His most noticeable feature was his fire-red hair which, he was always very proud to say, was totally natural. His eyes were a similar shade to Arthur's, only slightly more on the hazel side; and although his eyebrows were thicker than average, they were nothing compared to Arthur's.

He turned around, making a fuss of picking the perfect cake out for the girl and handed it over to her with a wink. Cue more giggling. People often wondered why a burly Scottish bloke worked in a bakery, but when people saw how the women flocked to him, they suddenly understood.

She gave him the money and he moved onto the next girl, treating her in exactly the same way – just as if she was the most precious being on Earth. Blushing, she started giving him her order when a man came rushing up to the counter, moving the girls to one side.

"Scottie!" He whispered sharply. "Your brother is here." The red-headed man looked puzzled for a moment. "Not only that, he flew on to the balcony. He just went and landed on the fecking balcony!" He paused and waited for an answer or a reaction from Scottie. He just turned back to the customer. The second man leant in closer and whispered "I heard a rumour he was with a wizard." Scottie sighed and turned to the man "I'm working – do I have to go see him now." His colleague just nodded in reply.

Scottie turned his grin back on and turned to the girls. "Sorry my lovelies, I really have somewhere to be right now. Try not to miss me too much." And giving a final wink, he sauntered off to the balcony where he would apparently find his brother.

He got up there to find Arthur leaning over the balcony and staring off into the distance. His brother was older, but also smaller and this gave Scottie all the excuses he needed to make fun of him.

"Artie!" He called, with a grin. Arthur looked up, blinking and then scowled.

"How many times do I bloody well have to tell you – don't. Call. Me. Artie." He growled, and then muttered under his breath "wanker."

Scottie just laughed it off and pulled his brother into an awkward hug. Arthur spluttered a bit but then put his arms around his brother, letting go again just as quickly. Scottie just grinned and ruffled Arthur's already unruly hair. This just made Arthur scowl again. Scottie either didn't notice, or was just so used to Arthur, didn't both to respond.

"It's a wee bit chilly out here," Scottie commented. "Why don't we head inside?" Arthur followed him through a door that led to the back of the cake shop. They went down a narrow flight of wooden stairs and headed towards what appeared to be a stockroom. There were boxes piled everywhere and there were people rushing around just outside the room, carrying boxes to and fro. The taller man settled down on one of the boxes, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He pulled one knee up so his foot was resting on the box, and rested his arm on his knee.

"So what brings you here?" Scottie asked Arthur, as he followed suit and sat neatly on a box near his brother.

"I don't really know. I just felt I hadn't seen you in a long time." He said, drawing patterns on the wood of one of the boxes with a finger.

"Anyway, more to the point, what's this I hear about you flying up onto my balcony being all loved up with some wizard?

Arthur looked up quickly, blushing. "It . . . it was not like that, git." His eyebrows knitted together.

"Not from what I heard," Scottie replied, with a sly grin and cocking one eyebrow up. "So why didn't you tell your own brother you swung that way?"

Arthur paused, considering what he was going to reply, and then stuttered out an answer. "I-it's not that I don't like girls . . . it's just . . . I prefer guys." His voice went quieter towards the end

Scottie looks surprised for a moment. "Mate, I was only joking." But then he smiled and clapped a hand onto Arthur's shoulder. "Hey, whatever floats your boat, I'm not gonna judge."

Arthur decided to change the topic to talk about his brother. "So working in this shop still has its benefits?" He said, knowing his brother's reputation.

"As always! The girls just can't resist a Scottish accent," he shrugged, giving off an air of complete self-confidence. "Back to the point, who was this wizard bloke you were with?" It seemed Arthur's efforts had been in vain.

"I d-" Arthur started, but Scottie cut him straight off.

"You need to be far more careful. These wizard guys are not people you want to be associating with. They seem great and all, but you know you'll just end up getting hurt." He poked Arthur in the ribs, chuckling; "he'll try to steal your heart. And if that wizard had been Francis, God only help you. You know what the stories say. He'd probably try to woo you, take you off into some darkened room, shag the hell out of you and then never see you again. Leaving you there, broken hearted, naked, all alone, and never to love again." He sighed dramatically and clutched his heart in mock anguish.

Arthur punched him in return, but not hard enough to cause _too_ much pain. "I am not some bloody damsel in distress. I am a man. Who can look after himself. And doesn't need his bloody younger brother to keep him safe from some buggering wizard." He paused in his rant. "And anyway, Francis only goes for good-looking people."

Scottie held up his hands, as if surrendering. "Woah, woah, mate! I was only trying to make sure you were ok." He gave a small, slightly nervous laugh. "Anyway, how's the shop doing?"

Arthur was a bit miffed now. "Fine." He answered, monosyllabically. He crossed his arms and looked grumpily down. This was why he didn't visit Scottie all that often.

"Seriously, you spend too long there. You need to lighten up a bit! Do you honestly want to spend the rest of your life in that shop?" Arthur didn't say anything. He enjoyed his job, but he knew that he had always wanted more. And he was annoyed at Scottie, so he just stayed quiet. "Yes, it was important to father and everything, but don't you want more out of life than spending day after day in that boring little shop?"

Arthur just stared at the ground, and Scottie sighed. "It's your life, Arthur – do something for yourself for once." He knew Scottie was right, but there was no way he was going to admit it.

"Hey Scottie," a man said from the door. "We've gotta clear up now, stop sitting around doing nothing." Scottie gave Arthur a slightly apologetic look.

"Hey, come and visit more often, ok? Or I'll be forced to storm into your house. I'll tear the door down if necessary." He laughed and pulled Arthur into a hug.

"Fine, fine!" Arthur replied, gently pushing Scottie towards the door. His brother sure was good at selling and at customer service, but was atrocious when it came to doing any of the menial tasks like tidying up. "Go get on! I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah, see you soon!" He gave a final wave and hurried off and Arthur could hear him calling, "I'm coming, I'm coming, don't have a bloody fit!"

Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead. Checking his watch, he realised just how late it had got. He muttered "bloody hell" under his breath and headed towards the back door of the shop.

He stepped outside and saw that it really had got rather dark. He shivered slightly and pulled his coat tighter around him. He decided that it would probably not be a good idea to risk taking the back streets again, especially after today's earlier events and so he briskly headed out to the main road.

He walked out in the direction of where he knew the nearest tram stop was, and waited there, leaning against a street sign. It took a surprisingly short time for the next one to arrive. He flashed his ticket at the conductor and headed for a seat. It was so much quieter, greatly contrasting with the one he had caught earlier.

Once he had reached his stop, he alighted swiftly, but then continued to saunter towards the shop. He slowly unlocked the door, walked in, and shut it behind him. The small bell sounded very loud in the stillness of the evening.

He sunk into a chair, sighing, and threw his hat gently down onto a table. This day had just been . . . odd. He really wasn't sure what to make of it. All he really wanted right now was to get a nice cup of tea and then sleep. Preferably for a very long time.

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, stretching out his neck. It wasn't going to do him any good just sitting here – he really ought to head home.

He stood up, straightening out his waistcoat and adjusting his tie slightly. Just as he went to pick up his hat, he heard the small bell on the front door tinkle and the door creaked open.

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><p>Morning all! Thank you very much to my reviewers: drink-tea-and-carry-on, Sam King, Stevie-Kai, Miss Grenouille and Marinoa. It means a lot to me ^^<p>

I really wanted to put Scottie in as he has one of my favourite character designs, especially for what is essentially an OC and so thought he could be Iggy's brother in here as well. I would so imagine him working somewhere so much manlier than a cake shop, but then I thought it was kind of a cute image xD And he also can be in honour of my wonderful Scottish-girl ^^ Oh, and the guy who runs in is Wales, but I was too lazy to give a description OTL

Stevie said she wanted a better shout out than the rubbishy one I gave her before. So here we go:

To my darling uke – you are the Arthur to my Francis, the Tino to my Berwald, the Ciel to my Sebastian, the Hunny to my Mori, the Shigure to my Ayame, the Misaki to my Usagi, the list could just go on. Zat list is totally supaa cool! Eet's like ze best evaaaar! FOR REALS YA'LL! Always I want to be with you, and I need you now (YUU SEE WOT AH DID THAR?) I miss you muchly on the bus and around school, but when college stops taking over my life we shall once again be reunited! Forever and always, your seme 3

Was that better?

Thanks for reading guys! Next chapter will be up some time after my last exam is finished and after the head girl campaigns are finished. *salutes*


	4. Chapter 4

"I could have sworn I locked that door," Arthur murmured, mostly to himself. He slowly looked around to get a look at who was at the door. "I guess I must have forgotten. Sorry, but we're closed." He said, this time directed at the woman standing at the door.

The woman was quite small and exuded an air of natural beauty. Her long brunette hair was in low bunches, cascading over her shoulders and tied loosely with red ribbons. Her floor-length turquoise-blue dress was fitted with a corset top, showing off her slim figure and a navy cloak hung around her shoulders. The neckline of the dress was lightly decorated with white lace and pearls. A grin crept across her face and she slowly started walking over towards Arthur.

"Well, well, isn't this a boring little shop we have here." She picked up a piece of embroidery between her forefinger and thumb as if she was holding a dirtied rag. "So very tasteless. And very, very boring." She dropped it on the floor, taking care to tread on it as she came very close to Arthur. "And you," she said as she walked her index finger and middle finger up his chest, "are by _far_ the most boring thing in here." She let out a small giggle and pushed him hard backwards, giving more force than he would have though capable from a sweet looking girl like her. He managed to catch himself on the table and quickly righted himself.

Arthur was angry now. Here was some random woman, in his shop, insulting his work and had now assaulted him. He was not going to stand for this. He marched briskly to the door and pulled it open, using all of his willpower to try and stay calm.

"I'm afraid you will have to leave now," he said through bared teeth. "The door is over here – we're _closed_."

The woman threw her head back and laughed, hands on hips. "Either you don't realise who I am, or you're brave standing up to the Witch of the Waste. Either very brave, or very stupid. You can take your pick." Until that moment, Arthur had not realised who he had been dealing with. Suddenly he felt he had lost all control of the situation. He was worried.

Without warning, the girl grew, and now towering over Arthur, she looked very menacing. It appeared as though dark, transparent wings sprouted from her back, and she swooped forward, rushing straight through Arthur. He collapsed to the floor.

Looking up at the girl, she let out a small giggle again. "This spell really is a beauty – and the best part is, you'll be unable to tell anyone about it!" Then she pulled over a sewing stand next to her, sending cotton reels rolling everywhere. "Oops!" She said, holding one hand over her mouth and feigning sorrow for her action.

"Give my regards to Francis," she said with a grimace as she pulled the hood of her cloak up with a flourish and swept out of the door.

Slowly, Arthur crawled up onto his knees. That blow must have been worse than he thought – he was finding it a bit difficult to get up. He looked down, taking in a breath, ready to get himself back and standing, and then he saw his hands. He couldn't help but let out a surprised shout – they looked exactly like the hands of an old man.

Surely his imagination was just playing tricks on him? He pulled himself to a standing position and rubbed his eyes. He looked back at his hands and saw that they were still looking the same. He rubbed his eyes again harder, clawing at his face and then at his hair, although he didn't know how this was going to help. As his hands met his hair, he realised that his normally thick messy hair felt far too thin.

He stumbled over to the mirror and gasped – he really did look old. The man staring back at him could still be recognised as Arthur, but from what should have been well over fifty years into his future. His face was wrinkled and his hair thin and silver-white. Even his eyebrows seemed thinner and were also white.

"Is that really me?" He said to himself in horror. "Ok, ok, stay calm." He said and wandered away from the mirror and then back again. He didn't think it was going to work, but anything was worth a try.

"Stay calm," he repeated. "Come on, man up Arthur, you're not going to gain anything by just panicking." He planted his hands firmly onto the cabinet in front of the mirror and leaned in closer, staring straight into his eyes. The bright green was still exactly the same as it had been before. Almost as if they were the eyes of a young person staring out of an old man's body.

He sighed and leaned his forehead against that of his reflection. He was not going to get anywhere by just standing here. He turned around, shuffling towards the door, but dithered there, wandering back in and out again. Could he go out like this? Surely people would notice. But then he couldn't stay here all night. He had to do something, but right now he just had no idea what he _could_ do.

So he decided that the only thing to do, would be to head home and get a night's sleep and think about things when they would be clearer in the morning.

* * *

><p>Arthur was awoken by the sound of someone rushing up the stairs. He jolted up right, head reeling as he had sat up far too quickly for his body to automatically adjust to. He clutched his head as he heard someone trying to twist the doorknob. He was very glad he had thought to lock the door.<p>

"Arthur? Are you in there?" He heard his mother's voice call on the other side of the door.

"Yes," he croaked, forgetting how different his voice sounded. "But don't come in, I have a terrible cold and really wouldn't want you to catch it." He lied quickly, hoping she wouldn't see through it.

"Oh love, you sound horrendous – just like an old man!"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Arthur replied, hoping to get her away from him. He really couldn't risk her seeing him like this. "You go and get on. It would be awful if you caught this as well."

"Well, if you insist," she said reluctantly, and after a moment's pause, he heard the sound of her disappearing downstairs.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and hesitated before getting up and heading over to his bedroom mirror. Nothing had changed. He sighed.

"This really is me isn't it?" He looked himself over. "Well, I guess this really could be a lot worse – at least my clothes suit me now. Everyone did always say I looked like an old man." He chuckled, but it was strained.

"Well, there really is no way that I can stay here and I won't find a way to get this curse lifted if I just sit around here any longer." He slowly got dressed and then grabbed his coat and threw it around his shoulders, before checking no one was around and then heading downstairs.

His back cracked loudly. "Well isn't being old just a bundle of laughs," he murmured to no one, but just feeling the need to complain. He felt he had a right to make a fuss all he wanted. He headed towards the kitchen and stopped to decide what he should take. He really didn't want to be carrying much and so packed some bare essentials.

Arthur shut the door of his house quietly behind him and after taking a couple of steps, glanced back, wondering if the next time he would be here, whether he would be back to his normal self or not. He took in a deep breath and started walking. He was on a mission, and was not going to stop until he found a way to set things right.

"Excuse me sir, could you do with hand?" A young man offered him as he made his way down a flight of stairs.

"No thank you," he replied, and then under his breath, "not bloody likely. I may look like an old man, but I can cope perfectly fine on my own." The blow to Arthur's pride seemed to be worse than anything.

He headed into town, and at his new slower pace, it was taking far longer than he would ever have anticipated. Sitting in a street, was a cart carrying a large amount of hay, with a large carthorse standing obediently at its front. Arthur knew that this would be heading out towards the outskirts of town.

"There's room in the back if you'd like," the farmers owning the cart replied to Arthur's inquiries as to where they were going. "Where are you headed then?"

"Oh just a little bit farther than you," he said. Anything would be good – he knew he would never survive walking on old legs like these. He hopped onto the back of the cart and settled back into the bundles of straw, trying to find a comfortable place to sit. He put his coat around himself like a blanket.

After a slow and very uncomfortable journey through the town, and into the outer reaches, they finally came to a juddering halt.

"So this is as far as we're going," one of the men said to Arthur. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine," Arthur waved a hand, dismissively. "Thank you very much for your kindness." And he started making his way in the direction of the wastes.

The men realised where Arthur was going and called out to him. "Woah, mister, it'd be crazy you going out there on your own – you do realise that there's nothing but witches and wizards out there, right?"

"Thank you, I'll bear that in mind," he called back, not even turning around to reply. He knew he had a long journey ahead of him, and nothing was going to get in the way of him getting his body back to its normal state.

* * *

><p>AN: Morning guys! Thank you very much to my lovely reviewers: XxCapturetheLightxX, Vine8Ky, Miss Grenouille and ThePsychicAnimelovingBookworm.

I know this chapter was little bit longer in coming than the others, but now I've just returned to normal sixth form life, so . . . well, I have no idea when I'll get another chapter xD There are still things I need to sort out for later chapters and they're nagging at me for the time being OTL

"Seriously dude, why am I not in this yet?" "Have a little patience would you, Al." "But you should have like totally made me the main character!" "Would you really have wanted me to pair you with France?" ". . ." "onhonhonhon mon ami, we would make ze best couple evaaa" *casually gropes* "And what about the awesome me?" "Erm . . . yeah . . . you totally have a role . . . I have to go now" *runs off*

Thanks for reading everyone! *salutes*


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur sat, staring out across the wastes and onto the town. It felt like he had been travelling much longer than the distance he had managed to cover. It really was a pain having an old body like this.

"I'm just never going to make it anywhere with these legs," he said out loud to himself. What if he was just stuck here, unable to make it anywhere? Unable to get food or shelter; let alone even find someone who may provide the slightest bit of help in returning him to normal.

He had never really been out of the town before, and so it felt odd looking back on it. In that place - that from here looked like an ant's village made of tiny houses and people so miniscule they were invisible - were his house and his shop and his life. But really, living in a town you _were_ invisible. What singled you out from anyone else? But for some reason, the Witch of the Waste had decided to single Arthur out. And now here he was, sitting on a hill and trying to work out when everything had gone so wrong.

He opened his pack and pulled out some of the bread and cheese he had packed what seemed like an age ago. He wondered for a moment how long this food was supposed to last him. No matter how much he could manage to eek it out, it was not going to last more than a couple of days, maximum.

"At least I still have my teeth," he said, taking a bite and chewing slowly. No matter what he tried, it was not going to make the best of his situation. He just wanted to wallow in his own self pity and he knew that no matter what he said to try and brighten the situation, he would remain as grumpy as ever.

Something caught his gaze out of the corner of his eye. Moving gently in the wind was a large stick, poking out of the top of a bush near to where he was sitting. A thought occurred to him.

"That would make a brilliant cane," maybe if he had something to support him a little better, he would be able to travel farther. Or at least move off from this little spot he had chosen to rest in.

He stood up with a groan and clutched his back. Hobbling towards the bush, he tried to work out whether the branch was actually still attached to it and if not, would it be easy enough to pull out. Giving it a testing tug with one hand, he decided that it would probably need a bit more force. Wrapping both hands around the stick and positioning them to get the most grip, he pulled: it didn't even budge.

"That's one stubborn branch," he said, attempting again to remove it from the bush, but alas, to no avail.

"This bloody branch is not getting the best of this old man!" He grunted through gritted teeth and really pulled hard, feet shifting as he tried to get enough leverage.

He stumbled back as the branch suddenly gave way, and as he lost his footing and took a couple of steps backwards to regain his balance, he realised that it was, in fact, a scarecrow. It had a ragged black jacket over what appeared to be a body made of a sack full of straw, judging by the amount of straw sticking out of it. But he was complete with a shirt, tie and white gloves hanging off the end of the pole that made his arms. There was a black top hat perched on his head and what looked like a single blonde curl hanging down from underneath the hat. And were those glasses around the buttons that were his eyes?

But the most curious thing about the scarecrow was that it appeared to be standing all on its own accord.

Arthur chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "I honestly thought you were going to be one of those buggering blob monsters, I'm pretty glad you're just a scarecrow. But then again, you obviously have some sort of spell on you. I mean look – you're standing on your own!" He peered up to get a better look at the scarecrow's face.

"You're head's a turnip!" He said incredulously. "I've always hated turnips – ever since I was little." It then occurred to him he may have been a little rude, and he really ought to be getting off now anyway. "Well, at least you're not upside down now," he stated, a little awkwardly. "I best be off now. So long!"

And with that, Arthur turned around and started to continue his journey up the hill.

The wind was biting and seemed to be trying its utmost hardest to rid Arthur of his coat. It was too cold. Arthur really didn't like it when it was too cold. But then again, it was worse when it was too hot. Nice, bland middling temperatures were just right – probably the reason why Arthur enjoyed the British maritime climate so much.

He looked ahead, trying to see how far he needed to walk, and then turned around to gauge it from the distance he had already managed to cover.

"I can still see the town - I've barely moved!" He said, voice rising in disbelief. There was no way he was going to get anywhere at this pace, but there was also no possible way for him to move any faster.

Just as he was about to turn back around to continue his journey, a movement caught his gaze. He stopped, and turned once again to face the direction from which he had come. Sighing, he realised it was only the scarecrow again and so carried on walking.

"No need to thank me," he called back to him. Much to his annoyance, he could still hear the scarecrow bouncing along behind him.

"Look, I've had more than enough of ruddy witches and wizards for my entire life, let alone today. Why don't you just bugger off and find a field and stand in it or something?" Arthur knew that he was being harsh, but he really couldn't deal with anything else right now, other than trying to find a way to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

But then the scarecrow bounced right up to Arthur, little curl moving in time with him, and he noticed that there was a cane hanging over the stick that was the scarecrow's arms.

"Is this for me?" Arthur asked, a little more humbly. "It's perfect! Thank you so much." He took the cane from the scarecrow and leant on it to give it a quick test. It seemed pretty sturdy.

Arthur suddenly had an idea. "Is there any chance you could look for a place for me to stay in? If you could it would be absolutely brilliant!" The scarecrow gave him what could have been a nod, and then hopped off. He'd become quite cunning in his old age, Arthur thought to himself.

A droning filled the air and Arthur looked up. A huge airship had taken over the sky as it passed, obviously on its way to help with the war. It was an ugly, stark metal contraption and just seemed so out of place heading towards the quaint little village he resided in. He let out a small noise of disgust. He really did not like anything regarding the war.

Arthur shivered. The sun was almost disappearing behind the horizon and it had suddenly become rather dark. And dark brought along with it the cold. Why did you have to get so cold when you were old? Arthur felt near breaking point and just sat down where he was, almost collapsing onto a pile in the middle of the rocky path along which he was walking.

Arthur looked up and saw a light in the near distance. It appeared to be flickering – could it be a fire? Arthur sat up a little straighter, and craned his neck in an attempt to get a better view. Maybe there was a cabin nearby. And maybe they would be kind enough to offer Arthur some shelter.

Arthur heard a noise in the distance. It was a sort of mechanical whirring, and he could hear the sound of a steam engine, or at least something which was powered by steam. That could explain the fire he had seen.

And then it came into view.

A huge monster of metal and various materials leered over the top of the hill. It was huge, and appeared to be some sort of building. It was seemingly made of anything and everything, and was fashioned in a very ramshackle way as if it had been lazily built over time just adding random bits here and there. But although this was a building, it had clawed metal legs sticking out of the bottom of it which were carrying the whole building. And they were _walking_!

This was a moving castle. It had to be Francis' moving castle.

Looking somewhat pleased with himself, the scarecrow hopped into view, curl bouncing along with him.

"You turnip head! That's Francis' castle. That was not what I meant when I asked you to find me somewhere to stay," Arthur could not believe that out of all the possible places that could provide shelter for Arthur, the scarecrow had to get him this.

"Humph, look at that," Arthur said with scorn. "They call that a castle? I've seen better looking dilapidated cottages. Absolutely no taste!"

Turnip-head bounced up towards the porch that was situated on the back of the "castle". He gave Arthur a look as if to ask him what he was waiting for.

"Is that the way in then?" Arthur asked, although he knew he would not be getting a reply from his silent friend. The answer was obvious anyway. He started walking towards the door, and picked up to a faster pace.

"Gah . . . . slow . . . down . . ." he said, between sharp breaths. His old body really wasn't cut out for this. _I'm getting up there whether you like it or not, _he thought. Arthur hated anything getting the better of him.

Finally he managed to scramble up onto the little ledge and quickly grabbed the rails to stabilise himself. The walking gait of the castle was making it rock around a lot, and he didn't want to lose his balance and fall.

He turned the door handle, and it opened with ease. He turned back to look at Turnip-head, who was following close behind.

"It looks nice and warm in there so I'm going in. And at least Francis won't eat the heart of a shrivelled old man like me!" Arthur gave a light chuckle.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, even if you are my least favourite vegetable!" He gave a small tip of his hat, and with that took a step through the door, straight into the warmth of Francis' moving castle.

* * *

><p>AN: Morning guys! Thanks to Vine8ky, XxCapturetheLightxX, Autumnleaf, .o0XxGurenxX0o., and Sparkstorm57 for the reviews. And thanks to anyone who's read it so far. I'm not sure how many hits is a good number, but what I've got sounds good to me lol (probably not though rofl I'm just happy for anything!)

Yeah, so Turnip-Head is Canada. Mainly because in the film, I just kind of forgot about him when he wasn't there rofl.

"Uuuuuugh, so you don't even have me falling for Arthur? What kind of an author do you call yourself?" "Well Al, I was going to give you one of my favourite characters, but I guess not now . . . ." Hehe, so no USUK, but we will be meeting more characters soon! An eventual character, you're going to be a bit WTF o.O over, but it will all be explained in due course ;D

Thanks everyone! Over and out *salutes*


	6. Chapter 6

The door closed sharply behind him, and Arthur looked around warily. The entire place appeared to be a complete tip! From what he could already see, merely standing on the doormat, the ceiling was covered in cobwebs and there were what appeared to be large piles of clutter. He gingerly placed a hand on the dust-covered metal railing, and taking cautious steps, made his way up into the room before him.

There were stacks of what appeared to be dirty plates and other crockery, with a large number of them cracked or chipped, balancing precariously on a stained, wooden table. Piles of food lay haphazardly nearby, and were, much to Arthur's disgust, a perfect magnet for flies and vermin. And there was clearly evidence for the latter in the corners of the room and even on the tables. Cobwebs hung low from the ceiling and crept down the walls. This teamed with the thick layer of dust covering nearly every surface in the room, made it safe to say that this room had certainly not been cleaned in a very long time.

There was a stone fireplace, surrounded by a large, raised hearth, and it contained a fire which was burning low. The whole area was covered in such a thick layer of ash, Arthur how no idea how the fire was still being kept alive, and he was totally unable to see the hearth on which the fire was placed. This must obviously have been the source of the light he had seen moments ago, when he was still out in the Wastes.

A small wooden chair sat in front of the hearth, and Arthur, being keen to get near to the warmth of its embers, quickly made his way over to it and sat down. He spread his hands out in front of the fire, and made a small noise of content, relishing in the warmth that it was currently emitting, that seemed to spark himself back into action, in an attempt to get his body temperature somewhere near what it should naturally be.

He reached down to the nearby stack of firewood, and placed a couple of medium sized logs into the embers, hoping to bring the fire up to a bigger size and bring even more warmth to the area. Keeping a stabile body temperature just wasn't as easy now he was without his young body.

"What a dump!" He murmured out loud to himself. "When I think of a castle, this is _not_ what I picture." He had been used to the beautiful and strong, stone castles that were found rather frequently throughout England. Even in their ruins, they held a kind of majesty and were filled with history and stories of the past of the country in which he had lived his whole life. There was something about their spiral staircases, high walls and crumbling stone that he had always admired – these were places that would have both housed and defended so many people, and yet they were still places of beauty - and taking that into mind, this was certainly not what he looked for in a castle.

He took another look around the room, taking note of the seemingly random books, scrolls and pieces of parchment that lay around the room. Every surface was covered with something or other, and much of it littered onto the floor. His eyes were drawn to a particularly large set of cobwebs in the corner of the room, which appeared to be the home for a set of rather unfriendly looking spiders.

He said out loud to himself, "Well, I've certainly found one good thing about being old – nothing seems to frighten you." Not that he was frightened of much before. Of course not – he was a grown man, and therefore would never get frightened. Well, it was ok to get frightened occasionally. Right? Even the great and brave Arthur gets scared once in a while. Not that anyone would ever be privy to this information.

As the warmth from the fire began to envelope his cold body, he settled down farther into the chair; pulling his coat around him, he revelled in finally feeling some heat in his weary body. The gentle heat, and the fact that he had finally been able to rest his aching legs, seemed to suddenly make him feel very tired, and Arthur began to feel his eyes dropping. Right now there was nothing he wanted more than to have a nice long sleep.

"I don't envy you, that is one serious curse you got there!" Arthur heard a voice say, startling him from his slumber. He immediately looked round, for the source, but upon seeing no one around, he realised that the fire in front of him was staring right back at him.

Wait, how could a fire be staring when it was a fire? Fires don't have eyes. Well, obviously this one did, otherwise it would not be looking at Arthur. Looking, and _talking_ to Arthur.

What originally had appeared to be just a normal, small fire, now had two wide eyes staring out at him. They were bright blue, which contrasted greatly against the bright reds and yellows that surrounded him. The way the flames were swirling made it appear as though his eyes were framed by a kind of firey glasses, and he had one random little flame that stuck up directly from the top, which didn't seem to flow with the rest of him.

"Curses are tough! You're going to have a really bad time trying to get rid of that one," it spoke to him again. Either Arthur was going even madder than he had at first assumed, or the fire was actually alive. But then again, in his current climate, who was he to judge any weird goings on.

"Did you really just speak?" He asked, not really sure why, as it obviously just had. But he seemed to crave some sort of reassurance of his sanity.

Totally ignoring Arthur's slightly pointless question, the fire went on to say, "Ooh, lemme guess! The curse won't let you talk about, am I right? I bet I'm right! Yeah of course I'm right, how could I be wrong?"

"You wouldn't happen to be Howl would you?" Arthur asked.

"No!" The fire said, indignantly. "_I _am an _extremely_ powerful fire demon! Probably the most powerful fire demon around these parts. Scratch hat, probably the most powerful in the entire world! And my name is Alfred, just so you know." He shot out a small amount of flames, bringing himself up to a bigger height, and then returning to his current size. "Isn't that awesome? I like to do that once in a while. It makes me feel like some sort of firey superhero, you know!"

"Wait right a moment there," Arthur exclaimed, trying to ignore, this fire demon's apparent hero complex, and over-excitement in seemingly everything. "If you're such a powerful fire demon, surely breaking this curse would just be a doddle for you!"

"Maybe, maybe not," Alfred replied, being annoyingly cryptic. "We could always strike up a deal! How about if you break the spell on me, I'll break that curse on you? You got it?"

Arthur thought for a moment. "But if you're a demon, how do I know I can trust you? Do you honestly promise to help me, if I help you?"

"Ahhh I dunno dude! Demons don't make promises . . ."

"Then how about you go find someone else to lift that ruddy spell, or just give me a straight answer!" This Alfred person was really beginning to get on Arthur's nerves.

"Aw come on! Have a little sympathy! Thanks to that spell, I'm stuck in this castle and Howl treats me like I'm his slave! Can you believe that? A hero like me? I should be out . . . saving people . . . or something! Not being trapped in here, being forces to heat his water, and cook his food, and make sure the rooms are all of a temperature exactly to his liking, and transport this castle all over the place!"

"Yes, yes, your life sounds bloody terrible. How about you tell me about it again at a time when I'll actually care . . ."

"If you could just figure out how to break this thing with Howl, then you could break the spell on me. And then after that I could easily break the curse on you! It would be a piece of cake," Alfred said confidently, his exuberant manner brushing off Arthur's comment.

Arthur was really beginning to get too tired to form a coherent sentence, let alone keep up his banter with the demon. "Alright," he said sleepily. "It's a deal." And his eyes began to drift shut again.

"Dude," Alfred said, trying to wake Arthur back up. "Hey dude! Hey hey hey hey. Duuuuuude! Come on! Hey! Old man!" He rolled his eyes. "Geez, you're certainly gonna be a great help." He said, as Arthur finally fell into, what he thought, was a well-deserved slumber.

* * *

><p>AN:

Morning lovelies!

I am seriously sorry it has taken me this long to get this written, but I, for some weird reason, have just been totally incapable of getting the words out. I've rewritten this about half a dozen times, and this is what I've finally come out with but am still a little unsure, but right now will just be sticking with it. So I'm really sorry for the wait ): I'm back at college now, and am one subject down (still doing 4 though OTL) so I'm still pretty busy, but feel I have more time than last year. So hopefully I'll stop being so lax and actually get more of this written, as I'm really enjoying doing so!

Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter, and thanks for reading this even after the wait xD Hopefully you'll have a new chapter soon!

That's all for now! *salutes*


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